Wolves of Tres Spades
by Nocuous Notions
Summary: Writer Kat Blackwood returns to her hometown of Tokyo for the IVC only to discover a black market auction and five remarkably attractive men, two of whom in particular stand out to her. Her life is about to take some very interesting turns- although at least now she has some inspiration for her next novel...


**A/N: This is my first ever KBTBB fanfic, so I hope it's okay. This chapter is kind of like the equivalent of the prologue of the actual game, although it takes a slightly different path. I hope you enjoy.**

When she first got the invitation, Kat Blackwood didn't know if she even wanted to go. She'd never liked parties much; besides, most of the celebrities invited to events like the IVC were singers, actors, models- or else others in the entertainment business, making millions off of their looks and their ability to please the public. Kat didn't know if she would be able to truly enjoy herself at a gathering composed mostly of those kinds of people- feeling the weight of their critical stares on her non-designer dress and the only pair of heels she had in her closet.

But in the end, simple nostalgia won out- seven years living in the United States couldn't erase the first eighteen of her life, all spent in Tokyo. Her mother might have been an American, and it was true that she'd probably influenced her daughter's way of thinking as she grew up, but Kat had close ties to Japan; she couldn't help it.

So now she pushed through the rotating door into the grand, glittering lobby of the Hotel Tres Spades, accompanied by the camera flashes of a few overeager paparazzi. Hastily, Kat pasted a smile on her face. She heard someone murmur, "Who's that?", but she wasn't that offended. Only recently had her books achieved recognition, after all; she'd appeared only a few times on television in interviews.

Besides, if she felt at all disappointed by the onlooker's failure to recognize her, it was squashed in the next moment when the person's friend looked at him as if he were insane. "That's Kat Blackwood! You know, she wrote those books about the Tokyo werewolves? She was on TV just a few days ago."

A few more cameras flashed as Kat made her way across the lobby; she struggled to keep her smile from dissolving into a grimace. She didn't mind attention, but she would take an admiring book review over a flock of pushy paparazzi any day. The comparative privacy of the elevator was a relief. She pressed the button for the ballroom floor and let out a quiet sigh.

But then the doors opened on the IVC floor, and her anxiety returned in an instant.

The ballroom sparkled; everywhere she looked, her eyes snagged on the sparkle of a lady's diamond earrings or the polished sheen of a gentleman's oil-black shoes. A massive crystal chandelier dangled like a bejeweled spider from the center of the cavernously high ceiling. The sounds of polite conversation and chiming laughter could be heard above the tinkling of a piano in the background.

Kat immediately felt awkward and underdressed. She tugged at the hem of her simple indigo dress- it had seemed so flattering of her slender waist and golden hair this morning but now seemed altogether too plain- and silently wished she were better at dealing with strangers, much less famous ones. A vaguely familiar older woman- she might have been a talk show host, or maybe an actress- glanced at her and giggled, not kindly.

Just as she was wondering if she should turn around and leave after all, someone tapped her on the shoulder. Kat spun to find a handsome man in a crisp tuxedo smiling at her with what seemed to be a genuine friendliness. "Kat Blackwood?"

It took her a second to place him. "Hiroki Ito?" He smiled and bowed, somewhat modestly. Kat had read his series starring the dashing Detective Galilei before it was made into a popular TV show. She could be a harsh critic when it came to novels, but she'd liked Ito's fresh voice and quirky sense of humor. It had surprised her how well he'd been able to integrate snatches of that humor into such a serious genre, while still retaining the overall effect that the hero was in grave danger every step of the way. "I'm a big fan of your books," she told him, bowing as well.

"And I of yours. I didn't realize you were invited."

"It's my first year."

"Well, I'm delighted to have the chance to meet you in person." He was such a gentleman, just like his gallant hero. Kat wondered briefly if he was seeing flashes of her own protagonist, the sweet, timid Suzume Fujimoto, in her as well. She hoped he wasn't comparing her to Suzume in her wild, uncontrollably bloodthirsty wolf form, at least.

"It's nice to meet you too."

Suddenly, a burst of chatter broke out near the entrance of the ballroom. People stopped all over the room, craning their necks to look as much as etiquette would permit. Kat found herself glancing over as well. At first all she saw was a gaggle of gorgeous women in designer dresses with perfectly sleek, glossy hair, their high-pitched excited voices drifting back to her ears. Then she realized the women were surrounding another figure: a young man in a well-tailored black suit with obsidian-black shoes that glinted between the stiletto heels of the ladies.

"Ah, the King." Mr. Ito smiled knowingly. "So he's shown up after all."

"The King?"

"Mr. Ichinomiya himself." Ito paused, then continued in a lower voice, "Have you heard what people are saying about him?"

Kat wasn't one for gossip, but she shook her head to be polite. "No, what?"

"Well…" He paused, perhaps to ratchet up the suspense- he was a crime writer, after all. "Incidentally, Ms. Blackwood, have you been invited to the Mad Hatter's Tea Party?"

She blinked a few times. "I didn't know you were a fan of Lewis Carroll, Mr. Ito."

Ito offered her an enigmatic smile. "Of course. Word has it that our friend Mr. Ichinomiya is as well."

"Really?"

"Yes." He tilted his head and studied her for a moment. "Unfortunately, I don't believe I can make it tonight."

"To the Tea Party?" A smile curled at the edges of her lips.

"Precisely. Would you like to go in my place?"

There was that whimsical side to Hiroki Ito that had made her laugh in the midst of his most serious scenes. "Sure," Kat replied.

"I could give you my seat, then, if you really wanted it." His voice was unusually serious now.

Her smile slipped. Was he talking about a real event? "Oh, um…"

Ito gave her a smile. "I really think it would be an eye-opening experience for you. I learned a lot about the social elite when I went."

The social elite? "I don't really think-" she began.

"Trust me."

Kat hesitated. She had to admit it- her curiosity was piqued. Finally, she nodded slowly.

"Meet me by the doors to the ballroom at eleven-thirty. I have something I want to give you."

The mask was simple, anonymous; it fit snugly over her nose, with tiny holes for her eyes to peer through. The click of her heels resounded off the basement walls, magnifying her isolation.

Just as Ito had promised, the door at the end of the hallway was ajar. Murmurs filtered through the crack as she approached, her heart thrumming nervously in her ears. Kat pushed it open as quietly as possible and stepped forward.

Once she entered, the whisper of voices became an uproar, with one rising above the rest: "This beautiful handcrafted vase is one of the last remaining relics of a certain ancient civilization in South Africa. Notice the intricate detail of the animal engravings. What exactly did the seller have to go through to acquire such a treasure? Well, for reasons that are no doubt clear to some of you, he would really prefer not to share specifics." A hearty laugh rang out throughout the hall.

Kat crept along the wall to seat #57, then slid into it as casually as she could, willing her pulse to stop racing to no avail.

"Let's start the bids at $1.5 million."

Numbers flashed on a massive screen behind the stage up front. The man on the stage- who appeared to be very curiously attired- read off the numbers as they popped up, slowly climbing in value. Kat happened to glance down and noticed an electronic device by her seat, with which she could type in numbers of dollars or yen. The lowest dollar amount she could input was $100,000.

So this was an auction. An auction for a very illustrious class of people, but still just an auction. Kat tried not to feel too disappointed. Ito had made her anticipate something much more scandalous.

"Sold to the woman in seat #87 for $28 million." After the winner had collected her prize, the auctioneer turned back to the crowd with a mischievous grin. "Now for our next item…"

A spotlight clicked on, shining its glare upon center stage. The crowd erupted in murmurs. At first, all Kat saw was a pile of rags, the pale, limpid gray hue of a foggy sky. And then the rags moved. A trembling figure lifted its face towards the audience, and Kat was unable to stop herself from sucking in a breath. Eyes as wide and round as planets stared out at the seated crowd with a palpable, animal terror, so thick that the odor hung in the air. Soft pink lips quivered on the verge of breakdown; salty tears reflected off the curve of cheekbones in the spotlight. Collapsed like a tower of cards in the birdcage, dress collecting in pools, the girl was as fragile as tissue paper and utterly alone.

How _old_ was she? Eighteen, nineteen perhaps? An adult, but just barely, still so young…

 _It had been an unusually savage December night. Snow whipped at her hair as she exited the restaurant-_

"A young, healthy Japanese woman! Keep her as a slave; keep her as a toy- it's really up to you!" The auctioneer's smile didn't waver.

Kat's stomach clenched as reality yanked her into its cold grip. She was on her feet before she knew what she was doing. "Wait!" she shouted. Her voice rang out above the clamor, her despair echoing through the hall. People hushed around her, twisting their necks. " _Wait!"_ she yelled again. Masked faces turned silently in her direction until the whole auditorium was staring at her. She took a deep breath. "Let the girl go."

A wave of whispers rolled across the room. The auctioneer blinked, his lips parting slowly. "Pardon?"

"Don't sell that woman." Kat swallowed thickly. "Please."

A few laughs rang through the air, piercing her like jagged shards of glass. The auctioneer smiled, with the air of a parent calmly explaining life to a small child. "I'm afraid I can't comply with your request at this time."

Her brain worked frantically for a minute. The girl in the cage gazed at her, wide brown eyes pleading silently. "What if… I had something else to sell?" Kat said slowly.

The audience murmured. "Something else?" the auctioneer asked.

"If I were to sell myself, would you let this girl go?" Kat stepped towards the stage, arms extended, heart hammering. "Take me instead."


End file.
